Delilah's POV
The heat of his gaze pinned me against the cool tile of the kitchen counter. "I've always admired you, Delilah."
"Get away from me," I snapped, my voice tight with a fear I refused to let bloom. "You’re my Beta."
He didn't heed the command. Instead, he cornered me, his presence suffocating. "Guards!" I screamed, the word tearing from my throat.
"Stop shouting!" His voice was a low rumble that vibrated through the kitchen. "From the day your father introduced you to the pack, a small, fragile thing, I knew you were going to be mine. You're mine." He cupped my face, his fingers warm against my skin.
"If you don't back away from my mate right now," a voice, rough as granite, rumbled behind him, "I swear to the moon goddess, I’ll rip every single part of your body, limb to limb until even she can't find you." A shiver traced down my spine, a tremor of both fear and something far more potent.
He tightened his grip, his possessive fervor escalating. "She’s mine! I should be her mate! There’s no way you two can be together. You're rivals!"
A fatal mistake.
In a single, fluid movement, Devon’s hand clamped around his throat, squeezing with brutal force. The man’s face flushed a sickening shade of blue.
"Don't you ever touch my mate again," Devon growled, his voice laced with barely contained rage. "She's mine and mine alone. Run. Run now and never come back if you value your life." He released the man, who stumbled backward, then bolted from the kitchen, a desperate sprint for survival.
I exhaled, relief flooding through me. The tension remained, a taut wire strung tight within my chest.
My gaze met Devon’s, and I swallowed hard. He reached for my hand, lifting me with effortless strength, carrying me to his office. The heavy oak door clicked shut behind us, sealing us inside.
"Are you okay?" His voice was a soft murmur, a stark contrast to the fury of moments before.
I nodded, unable to find my voice.
"Thank you," I managed, the words barely a whisper. "For…saving me."
He walked closer, his hand cupping my chin, his touch gentle. I closed my eyes, letting the warmth soothe the lingering tremor in my muscles. I had craved this touch for so long, a secret ache hidden deep within my core.
He lowered his head, his intent clear. I felt the anticipation build, the magnetic pull between us growing stronger with each breath.
But I resisted. "We can’t!" I shouted, pushing him away, the force of my rejection echoing in the confined space.
"Why?" His voice was husky, laced with frustration.
"Because we're rivals." I stepped back, my heart hammering against my ribs. He moved again, pinning me against the wall, his body a shield against my escape.
"We’re also mates," he countered, his voice low and dangerous. "Stop using our rivalry as an excuse. If you keep ignoring what you feel for me, I might just take you on that desk so many times you won’t even remember we’re rivals." The threat was a raw, visceral promise.
His words ignited a fire within me, a searing heat that threatened to consume all reason. I couldn’t deny the truth: he’d set me ablaze, and I was burning for him.